Auto Suggestions are available once you type at least 3 letters. Use up arrow (for mozilla firefox browser alt+up arrow) and down arrow (for mozilla firefox browser alt+down arrow) to review and enter to select.

Vivian Miller. High-powered CIA analyst, happily married to a man she adores, mother of four beautiful children. Until the moment she makes a shocking discovery that makes her question everything she believes.

She thought she knew her husband inside and out. But now she wonders if it was all a lie. How far will she go to learn the truth? And does she really . . .

. . . NEED TO KNOW?

Film rights sold to Universal Pictures for Charlize Theron • Rights sold in more than 20 markets

“Shaping up to be one of the year’s biggest new thrillers.”—Entertainment Weekly “So timely . . . Think of the perfect mix of Homeland and The Americans. . . . Need to Know needs to be read by all who relish spy novels. As entertaining as it is informative and as irresistible as it is impossible to put down.”—Providence Journal “Pulse-pounding.”—O: The Oprah Magazine “Accomplished . . . a nonstop thriller tapping into a hot mix of contemporary digital counterintelligence, old-school spying and ageless family drama.”—Shelf Awareness

“An early contender for next year’s Gone Girl.”—GQ (UK)

“The Russia page-turner that should be on everyone’s list.”—New York Post

Product Details

About the Author

Karen Cleveland is a former CIA analyst. She has master’s degrees from Trinity College Dublin (international peace studies) and Harvard University (public policy). Cleveland lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two young sons. This is her first novel.

Read an Excerpt

Two Days Earlier

Chapter 1

“Bad news, Viv.”

I hear Matt’s voice, words anyone would dread, but a tone that’s reassuring. Light, apologetic. It’s something unfortunate, sure, but it’s manageable. Anything truly bad and his voice would be heavier. He’d use a complete sentence, a complete name. I have some bad news, Vivian.

I hold the phone to my ear with a raised shoulder, swivel my chair to the other side of the L-­shaped desk, to the computer centered under gray overhead bins. I guide the cursor to the owl-­shaped icon on the screen and double-­click. If it’s what I think it is—­what I know it is—­then I only have a bit longer at my desk.

“Ella?” I say. My gaze drifts to one of the crayon drawings tacked to the high cubicle walls with pushpins, a pop of color in this sea of gray.

“A hundred point eight.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We’ve been expecting it. Half her class has been sick, falling like dominoes, so it was only a matter of time. Four-­year-­olds aren’t exactly the cleanliest bunch. But today? It had to happen today?

“Anything else?”

“Just the temp.” He pauses. “Sorry, Viv. She seemed fine when I dropped her off.”

I swallow past the tightening in my throat and nod, even though he can’t see me. Any other day and he’d pick her up. He can work from home, at least in theory. I can’t, and I used up all my leave when the twins were born. But he’s taking Caleb into the city for the latest round of medical appointments. I’ve been feeling guilty for weeks that I’ll have to miss it. And now I’ll be missing it and still using leave I don’t have.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” I say. The rules say we have an hour from the time they call. Factoring in the drive and the walk to my car—­it’s in the outer reaches of Langley’s sprawling parking lots—­that gives me about fifteen minutes to wrap up work for the day. Fifteen minutes less leave to add to my negative balance.

I glance at the clock in the corner of my screen—­seven minutes past ten—­and then my eyes shift to the Starbucks cup beside my right elbow, steam escaping from the hole in the plastic lid. I treated myself, a splurge in celebration of the long-­awaited day, fuel for the tedious hours ahead. Precious minutes wasted in line that could have been spent digging through digital files. Should have stuck to the usual, the sputtering coffee maker that leaves grounds floating at the top of the mug.

“That’s what I told the school,” Matt says. “School” is actually our day care center, the place where our youngest three spend their days. But we’ve been calling it school since Luke was three months old. I’d read it could help ease the transition, lessen the guilt of leaving your baby for eight, ten hours a day. It didn’t, but old habits die hard, I guess.

There’s another pause, and I can hear Caleb babbling in the background. I listen, and I know that Matt’s listening, too. It’s like we’re conditioned to do so at this point. But it’s just vowel sounds. Still no consonants.

“I know today was supposed to be a big day . . . ,” Matt finally says, and trails off. I’m used to the trailing off, the evasive conversations on my open line. I always assume someone’s listening in. The Russians. The Chinese. That’s part of the reason Matt’s the first one the school calls when there’s a problem. I’d rather him filter some of the kids’ personal details from the ears of our adversaries.

Call me paranoid, or just call me a CIA counterintelligence analyst.

But really, that’s about all Matt knows. Not that I’ve been trying in vain to uncover a network of Russian sleeper agents. Or that I’ve developed a methodology for identifying people involved in the highly secretive program. Just that I’ve waited months for this day. That I’m about to find out if two years of hard work is going to pay off. And if I stand a chance at that promotion we desperately need.

“Yeah, well,” I say, moving my mouse back and forth, watching Athena load, the cursor in the shape of a timer. “Caleb’s appointment is what’s important today.”

My eyes drift back to the cubicle wall, the bright crayon drawings. Ella’s, a picture of our family, stick arms and legs protruding straight from six round happy faces. Luke’s, a bit more sophisticated, a single person, thick jagged scribbles to color in hair and clothing and shoes. MOMMY, it says in big capital letters. From his superhero phase. It’s me, in a cape, hands on my hips, an S on my shirt. Supermommy.

“The Maldives?” Matt says, and I feel the hint of a smile creep to my lips. He always does this, finds a way to make me smile when I need it most. I glance at the photograph of the two of us on the corner of my desk, my favorite from our wedding day, almost a decade ago. Both of us so happy, so young. We always talked about going somewhere exotic for our ten-­year anniversary. It’s certainly not in the cards anymore. But it’s fun to dream. Fun and depressing at the same time.

“Bora Bora,” I say.

“I could live with that.” He hesitates, and in the gap I hear Caleb again. More vowel sounds. Aah-­aah-­aah. In my head, I’m calculating the months Chase has already been making consonant sounds. I know I shouldn’t—­all the doctors say I shouldn’t—­but I am.

“Bora Bora?” I hear from behind me, faux-­incredulous. I put my hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and turn. It’s Omar, my FBI counterpart, an amused expression on his face. “That one might be hard to justify, even for the Agency.” He breaks into a grin. Infectious as ever, it brings one to my own face, as well.

“What are you doing here?” I say, my hand still covering the mouthpiece. I can hear Caleb babbling in my ear. O’s this time. Ooh-­ooh-­ooh.

“Had a meeting with Peter.” He takes a step closer, perches on the edge of my desk. I can see the outline of his holster at his hip, through his T-­shirt. “The timing may or may not have been a coincidence.” He glances at my screen and the grin fades ever so slightly. “It was today, right? Ten a.m.?”

I look at my screen, dark, the cursor still in the shape of a timer. “It was today.” The babbling in my ear has gone quiet. I roll my chair so that I’m turned, just a touch, away from Omar and remove my hand from the mouthpiece. “Honey, I have to go. Omar’s here.”

“Tell him I said hi,” Matt says.

“Will do.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” I set the phone down on its base and turn back to Omar, who’s still sitting on my desk, denim-­clad legs outstretched, feet crossed at the ankles. “Matt says hi,” I tell him.

“Aaah, so he’s the Bora Bora connection. Planning a vacation?” The grin’s back, full force.

“In theory,” I say with a half-­hearted laugh. It sounds pathetic enough that I can feel color rise to my cheeks.

He looks at me for a moment longer, then thankfully down at his wrist. “All right, it’s ten-­ten.” He uncrosses his ankles, crosses them the opposite way. Then leans forward, the excitement on his face unmistakable. “What have you got for me?”

Omar’s been doing this longer than I have. A decade, at least. He’s looking for the actual sleepers in the U.S., and I’m trying to uncover those running the cell. Neither of us has had any success. How he’s still so enthusiastic never fails to amaze me.

“Nothing yet. I haven’t even taken a look.” I nod at the screen, the program that’s still loading, then glance at the black-­and-­white photograph tacked to my cubicle wall, beside the kids’ drawings. Yury Yakov. Fleshy face, hard expression. A few more clicks and I’ll be inside his computer. I’ll be able to see what he sees, navigate around the way he does, pore through his files. And hopefully prove that he’s a Russian spy.

“Who are you and what have you done with my friend Vivian?” Omar asks with a smile.

He’s right. If it wasn’t for the line at Starbucks, I’d have logged in to the program at ten a.m. on the dot. I’d have had a few minutes to look around, at least. I shrug and gesture at the screen. “I’m trying.” Then I nod toward the phone. “But in any case, it’s going to have to wait. Ella’s sick. I need to go pick her up.”

He exhales dramatically. “Kids. Always the worst timing.”

Movement on the screen draws my attention, and I roll my chair closer. Athena’s finally loading. There are red banners on all sides, a slew of words, each signifying a different control, a different compartment. The longer the string of text, the more classified. This one’s pretty darn long.

I click past one screen, then another. Each click is an acknowledgment. Yes, I know I’m accessing compartmented information. Yes, I know I can’t disclose it or I’ll go to jail for a very long time. Yes, yes, yes. Just get me to the information already.

“This is it,” Omar says. I remember he’s there and glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s looking away purposefully, studiously avoiding the screen, giving me privacy. “I feel it.”

“I hope so,” I murmur. And I do. But I’m nervous. This methodology is a gamble. A big one. I built a profile for suspected handlers: educational institution, studies and degrees, banking centers, travel within Russia and abroad. Came up with an algorithm, identified five individuals who best fit the pattern. Likely candidates.

The first four turned out to be false leads, and now the program’s on the chopping block. Everything rests on Yury. Number five. The computer that was the hardest to break into, the one I had the most confidence in to begin with.

“And if it’s not,” Omar says, “you did something that no one else has been able to do. You got close.”

Targeting the handlers is a new approach. For years, the Bureau’s been trying to identify the sleepers themselves, but they’re so well assimilated it’s next to impossible. The cell is designed so that sleepers don’t have contact with anyone but their handler, and even that is minimal. And the Agency’s been focused on the ringleaders, the guys who oversee the handlers, the ones in Moscow with direct ties to the SVR, Russian intelligence.

Around the time I started on the account, Omar was a hard-­charging new agent. He’d proposed a new initiative, inviting entrenched sleepers to “come in from the cold” and turn themselves in, in exchange for amnesty. His reasoning? There had to be at least a few sleepers who wanted to turn their covers into reality, and we might be able to learn enough from the turned sleepers to penetrate the network as a whole.

The plan was rolled out quietly, and within a week we had a walk-­in, a man named Dmitri. Said he was a midlevel handler, told us information about the program that corroborated what we knew—­handlers like himself were responsible for five sleepers each; he reported to a ringleader who was responsible for five handlers. A completely self-­contained cell. That got our attention, for sure. Then came the outrageous claims, the information that was inconsistent with everything we knew to be true, and then he disappeared. Dmitri the Dangle, we called him after that.

That was the end of the program. The thought of publicly admitting there were sleepers in the U.S., of admitting our inability to find them, was already barely palatable to Bureau seniors. Between that and the potential for Russian manipulation—­dangling double agents with false leads—­Omar’s plan was roundly criticized, then rejected. We’ll be inundated with other Dmitris, they said. And with that, Omar’s once-­promising career trajectory stalled. He fell into obscurity, plugging away, day after day, at a thankless, frustrating, impossible task.

Reading Group Guide

1. The title of the novel points to Vivian’s pursuit of the truth and her drive to determine what matters most to her. Ultimately, what are the things Vivian needs to know about her career and about her marriage?

2. Did you believe Matt when he assured Vivian that his intentions were pure? Were you suspicious of him at any point in the novel? Why?

3. Early in the novel, Vivian is asked to make a decision that pits her loyalty to her country against her loyalty to her family. Does she end up choosing between them, or does she manage to reconcile the two? What would you have done in her shoes?

4. On page 147, Vivian describes the day Luke almost got hit by a car. She instinctively screamed when she saw the car nearly run Luke over, while Matt remained silent. What is the purpose of this scene? What do the parents’ differing reactions reflect about their personalities?

5. Vivian tampers with confidential CIA files and programs multiple times throughout the novel. Were the things she did unethical or justified? Did she jeopardize the nation’s security?

6. Vivian and Matt both serve their respective countries, albeit in different ways. How do their national alliances affect their lives? Do their allegiances change over the course of the novel?

7. Vivian wants to provide the best life possible for her children, and she will do anything to protect them. But if Vivian had not had children to consider, do you think she would have made the same choices?

8. Do the events of the novel irreversibly change Vivian and Matt’s relationship?

9. Karen Cleveland was a CIA analyst herself. Think about the scenes where Vivian is inside the CIA headquarters—what details interested or surprised you? Did you feel you had an inside perspective into the processes of the CIA?

10. What do you know about sleeper cells in the United States? Do you feel they’re a serious threat the public should worry about?

11. Interspersed in the narrative are flashbacks to milestones in Vivian and Matt’s relationship. Did you like these scenes? What did they add to the story—or did they detract from it?

12. On page 267, Vivian says, “They get you where you’re most vulnerable.…With us, it was our family.” Where would you be the “most vulnerable”? Why?

13. Discuss the ambivalence Vivian feels about returning to the CIA after having a year off with her family. Why do you think Vivian decides to go back to work at the end of the novel?

Editorial Reviews

Shaping up to be one of the year’s biggest new thrillers.”—Entertainment Weekly “So timely . . . Think of the perfect mix of Homeland and The Americans. . . . Need to Know needs to be read by all who relish spy novels. As entertaining as it is informative and as irresistible as it is impossible to put down.”—Providence Journal “Pulse-pounding.”—O: The Oprah Magazine “Accomplished . . . a nonstop thriller tapping into a hot mix of contemporary digital counterintelligence, old-school spying and ageless family drama.”—Shelf Awareness

“An early contender for next year’s Gone Girl.”—GQ (UK)

“The Russia page-turner that should be on everyone’s list.”—New York Post

“Perhaps there will be two or three readers out there who manage to finish the first chapter of this terrific debut and put it down for more than an hour. But they’ll be back. And they’ll devour it like the rest of us, skipping lunch, losing sleep, turning pages until the end, where we’re all left waiting for more.”—John Grisham

“Prediction: If you read chapter one, you’ll read chapter two. If you read chapter two, you’ll miss dinner, stay up far too late, and feel tired at work tomorrow. This is that kind of book. Superb.”—Lee Child

“Karen Cleveland is the real deal—an exciting new voice in thrillers. Scarpetta would call her friend.”—Patricia Cornwell

“I am consumed with awe that this a debut novel. Breathtaking, heart-pounding, it manages to be at once intimate and sweeping, characterful and plot driven. Need to Know is a really astonishing achievement for any writer, let alone a first-time novelist. I love it!”—Louise Penny, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“I raced through this gripping tale of domesticity and deceit. Karen Cleveland deliciously ratchets up the tension at every turn. You won’t be able to put it down until the final, stunning page!”—Shari Lapena, New York Times bestselling author of The Couple Next Door

“Need to Know carves out a uniquely compelling space among thrillers: high-stakes international intrigue combined with high-drama domestic suspense. These richly overlapping layers of tension create a fast-paced, relentlessly gripping read.”—Chris Pavone, New York Times bestselling author of The Expats

“Heart-poundingly suspenseful and heart-wrenchingly insightful, Need to Know hums with authentic detail, crisp storytelling, and characters that will long stay in your thoughts—a gripping thriller with real psychological depth.”—JP Delaney, New York Times bestselling author of The Girl Before

From the Publisher

10/23/2017Former CIA analyst Cleveland’s assured if thinly plotted debut is an unusual mix of family drama and spy thriller. The narrator, CIA analyst Vivian, is part of a team in the Counterintelligence Center, Russia Division, that’s searching for agents running sleeper cells in the U.S. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her four young children and doting husband. Flashbacks chart the couple’s courtship, then their lives as hyperbusy young parents, delving deeply into maternal and marital love. When Vivian isn’t fretting about her family, she’s trying to extricate herself from a colossal treasonous mess that results from a startling discovery that she makes in the course of her research. The deep backstory may attract readers not usually drawn to espionage novels, but thriller fans who like tradecraft and action will have to look elsewhere. Agent: David Gernert, Gernert Company. (Jan.)

Publishers Weekly

★ 10/01/2017This pulse-hammering first novel plays fiendishly with interagency cooperation between the CIA and the FBI. CIA analyst Vivian Miller is also a mother of four, including a special-needs child. With her loving husband, she is deeply committed to the happiness and health of their nuclear family. While at work, she seeks well-hidden moles long believed to threaten American security. Vivian is startled to see her husband's photo turn up in the computer of a known Russian agent. In a flood of panic she deletes the image. When Matt learns what she has done, he is straightforward. Yep, he's been in Russia's service for 23 years. VERDICT Having worked for the FBI and CIA, debut author Cleveland peppers her book with apparently impeccable tradecraft details. Flashing back to the events that led to the couple's predicament and then onward as they act to stem the tidal wave of prosecutorial woes that await them, this suspenseful espionage tale is a rousing Act 2 to the excitement of TV's The Americans and the novels of Chris Pavone. [See Prepub Alert, 7/24/17; film rights sold to Universal Pictures; Charlize Theron will star.]—Barbara Conaty, Falls Church, VA

Library Journal

2017-10-02In Cleveland's debut novel, a CIA analyst tracks Russian sleeper agents—to her own front door.On the surface, Vivian and Matt live a traditional American life: they have a happy marriage based on a lucky meeting and love at first sight; a house in the suburbs near the best schools; four beautiful children. There is some financial strain, but Vivian feels fulfilled by her work on the Russia desk at the CIA, and Matt's IT job allows him flexibility to pick up the kids as needed. Vivian's team is working hard to uncover the system used to keep track of Russian sleeper agents, and as she secretly navigates through the hacked computer of a midlevel Russian handler, she's thrilled to discover photographs of his five agents—until she realizes that one of the faces is that of her husband. Suddenly, everything she thought secure—her marriage, her patriotism, and her very life—lies on shaky ground. Whose side is Matt really on? Should she turn him in? Can she betray her country to keep her family together? The fast-moving plot will appeal to fans of The Americans and to conspiracy theorists, and Cleveland was herself a CIA analyst, so she knows her way around secrets and those who fight to keep them. The problem is that the characters lack human development. Vivian's inner conflict is clear and somewhat poignant, especially as she looks back over the years of her life and has to reconsider every word her husband ever said, every decision they made, even the way they met. But Matt seems a somewhat slippery character from the beginning, so maybe she just wasn't very good at reading people.If you don't expect a deeply thoughtful thriller, you'll get carried away by the action enough to enjoy it.

Kidnappers have snatched the teenage son of super-star golfer Linda Coldren and her husband, Jack,
an aging pro, at the height of the U.S. Open. To help get the boy back, sports agent Myron Bolitar goes charging after clues and ...

“Peter Lovesey tosses off a real brain-banger in Bloodhounds, the fourth book in a challenging series
. . . I am mad for these pyrotechnic teasers, and this one had my head spinning.”—The New York Times Book ReviewA rare stamp and ...

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY NPR,
BOOKPAGE, AND SHELF AWARENESS • “Paula McLain is considered the new star of historical fiction, and for good reason. Fans of The Paris Wife will be captivated ...

Bestselling, award-winning author Val McDermid delivers her most stunning story yet in The Distant Echo-an
intricate, thought-provoking tale of murder and revengeFour in the morning, mid-December, and snow blankets St. Andrews School. Student Alex Gilbery and his three best friends ...

Jack Reacher. Hero. Loner. Soldier. Soldier’s son. An elite military cop, he was one of
the army’s brightest stars. But in every cop’s life there is a turning point. One case. One messy, tangled case that can shatter a career. ...

Retirement has not come easy for Detective Inspector Frank Elder. He's fled to a solitary
existence on the Cornish coast, but he can't escape the past. Susan Blacklock would be thirty now. But fourteen years ago she disappeared, and the ...

A spy is dead. A legend is born. This is how it all began. The
explosive prequel to Casino Royale, from bestselling author Anthony Horowitz. Forever and a Day is the story of the birth of a legend, in the brutal underworld of ...